The hatred we bear our enemies injures their happiness less than our own.
Nothing for preserving the body like having no heart.
True courage is like a kite; a contrary wind raises it higher.
The great chastisement of a knave is not to be known, but to know himself.
That prudery which survives youth and beauty resembles a scarecrow left in the fields after harvest.
The true worth of a soul is revealed as much by the motive it attributes to the actions of others as by its own deeds.